The Death of Mary Sue
by Eve Hawke
Summary: The perfect woman has saved Thedas from the Blight and wowed them with her home cooking, not to mention her ability to juggle baby geese while tap dancing and singing a tune she wrote herself. But I'm making sure she doesn't live long enough to tell the tale.


_A/N: Have you ever read one of those stories where everything is perfect? Or even just certain details, that have grated? Let me say right now - Mary Sue is my least favorite person on the planet. And she's not even ON our planet! But whatever planet she's inhabiting, I never ever want her anywhere near my stories. So this little piece of fun found its way past my fingers today. I kicked it around in my head for a few days, then finally budgeted myself 30 minutes to write it - no more. And I churned it out in 22. Why? Because there's nothing to it. The real writing, the interesting stuff... when you're inspired, it can be done very quickly. But that inspiration, at least for me, comes at the price of hours of contemplation, and then more hours of laboring over my keyboard, trying to find the perfect way to say or convey exactly what I want. Mary Sue's too easy. She gives it up without the work._

_BTW. That thing about the fingernails is true. I dunno why I only bite my thumbnails, but I do. Why? Because I'm not perfect. Though that's the only feature I share with this particular incarnation of Eve Hawke. ;-)_

_Anyway. Hope you enjoy - and here's to killing Mary Sue forever and ever!_

* * *

**The Death of Mary Sue**

Mary Sue Cousland walked sedately up to the dais, where King Cailan awaited with his wife, Queen Anora. The formerly barren queen bloomed with good health, her hands resting lightly on her rounding abdomen. Both monarchs were thrilled the be expecting a child in the coming months, and the one who'd given them the opportunity was the one who now walked toward them.

From the gallery, Alistair sighed, tugging on his stiff collar. After Mary Sue had discovered his birthright, she'd talked Cailan into recognizing him as royalty, and he'd been living in Denerim's palace ever since. Another day, another ceremony, another group of people worshiping Mary Sue's feet. Truly, it seemed she could do no wrong.

She'd known of the Blight, somehow... just _how_ no one quite knew. She claimed it was just a feeling, but she'd mounted her pet griffin and flown to find Duncan, who'd been at the tournament where Alistair was competing. Alistair had been hoping to win, and for Duncan to take him away from the Chantry and make him a Grey Warden - anything was better than a life of prayer and contemplation as a Templar. But Mary Sue herself had entered the tournament - at the urging of those who'd seen her arrive, bearing her family's famous blade - and of course, none had been able to best her. She'd emerged victorious, taking first, second _and_ third place. And then she'd sprung it on them.

"Come with me," she said in a voice musical and sweet. "There is a Blight! But we can prevent it - if we act now!"

Somehow, the lass had known where the slumbering Archdemon was. Not only that, but where the other two were, as well, and Duncan and Alistair had helped her kill them as they slept. Suddenly, the Darkspawn seemed to lose all hope, and simply... vanished. Without their ancient Gods, they lost all desire to live, and so Thedas was saved from the worst threat in thirteen ages.

Then she'd set about righting other wrongs in the kingdom, taking Alistair with her - for some reason, she'd taken a shine to him.

First, the Dwarves. Mary Sue had heard of a rift between the royal family, and it turned out that the youngest son Bhelen had been in cahoots with his older brother, Trian - planning to murder their father and take Orzammar's crown. But after a good old fashioned family dinner, which Mary Sue cooked herself, they'd come around to the idea of everyone living and working together. Just how she'd managed to micro-brew that ale, Alistair still hadn't figured out, but it couldn't be denied that it had been quite excellent. By the time she left, they were ready to name her a Paragon - something that no human had ever achieved, if what he'd heard was correct.

They'd visited the Dalish, correcting an ages-old curse that had tormented not only the ancient leader of the Elvhen, but the strange beasts that had roamed the Brecilian forest. Then they'd visited Redcliffe, where Arl Eamon had told her Alistair's secret - and so it was to Denerim, to beg Cailan to correct such an egregious error. Cailan and Anora had been utterly charmed by the young woman, and saw no harm in making Alistair Cailan's heir - even Teyrn Loghain had thought it a good idea, when it tumbled from Mary Sue's lips.

Next, she'd discovered that the king and his queen had been unable to conceive. This was no trouble for Mary Sue, who'd heard of an ancient herbal remedy, and within a fortnight the queen was pronounced with-child. Alistair had been relieved, honestly - who wanted the throne? Now there might be kids to play with, at least. If he had to live in a castle, at least he could get something out of it.

An uprising in the Mage tower had been their next challenge, but within hours Mary Sue had talked the demons into turning back into humans. Alistair was shocked. How could any woman _do_ what she'd managed?

And somehow, he'd found himself engaged to this most perfect woman in all of Thedas. Her hair was an enigma, dark in some lights and bright in others, but always shining with health and beauty. Eyes as sparkling as the stars glinted from a complexion so peaches-and-creamy he'd been tempted to taste it - until she'd actually let him. Then he'd discovered she tasted like skin. Nothing more. Though there _had_ been the lingering scent of strawberries.

Her teeth were white and straight, and when she smiled, the birds began to sing. No, seriously. He'd seen it. It was weird at first.

A figure like... well, it was perfect. She was large of bosom, small of waist, generous of hip - not _too_ generous, just the perfect balance of slim and strong, feminine and girlish, womanly and experienced. Their first kiss had been... amazing. Perfect... the way she'd nipped his lower lip, her sapphire eyes sparkling with depths of green and gold. She was so impossibly beautiful.

She hadn't even minded when he'd confessed his virginity. "Me, too," she'd said. "Maybe someday... when we're married," she'd whispered, her fingers finding their way into his.

She was enchanting, and Thedas had fallen at her feet.

And yet...

Alistair sighed again.

"Hold still," a voice grated in his ear. Alistair whipped his head to the side, looking in surprise at the woman who crouched in the shadows behind him. A rangy bow, scarred and wrapped in leather, was gripped in one rough hand. The hands... they fascinated him, and he stared. Cut and smudged with dirt, the thumbnails bitten down to nothing. But _only_ the thumbnails... curious. Her other fingers bore short, clean - okay, maybe not _clean_ - unbitten fingernails. What a strange conundrum.

Short blonde hair crowned her head in a bowl cut, so pale it was almost white. Her skin was tanned, her face long and angular, her lips thin and pressed to a tight line - so different from his perfect Mary Sue. Hard cheekbones stood out in this prominent face, punctuated by eyes as blue as ice. Not deep and rich - no, these were light and cold, sharp as tacks, with black pupils that seemed out of place in the bright color.

She wore... men's clothing. Not the feminine version, either. Those were clearly men's breeches, and they hugged hips so straight and featureless that Alistair had to blink to make sure he was, in fact, looking at a woman. But her high voice could not be disguised, even if he doubted there were any breasts at all beneath the creamy linen shirt.

She sniffed derisively, then leaned over and _snrrked_ and spat, the sound shocking. Alistair had never seen a woman _spit_ before. But so riveted was everyone in the hall that none other than himself seemed to hear the odd noise, and the woman continued to go unnoticed by all save himself.

"Who are you?" he asked, keeping his voice low. Deny it all he liked, this woman was at least interesting. Not that Mary Sue wasn't, but... there was never any mystery to his fiancé. She was as predictable as... well, rain, now that Mary Sue had come up with the spell to keep rain coming at every second Thursday. Plenty of sun, but plenty of water too for the crops. They'd hailed her as a young genius.

"Name's Eve," she muttered in a tense voice, her fingers kneading the bow, those frightening eyes trained on the woman he was supposed to marry. "And I'm here to kill her."

"What?" Alistair yelped, drawing gasps of shock and "shhhh!" from all around. Alistair's eyes darted. "What... why didn't they hear you?"

Eve snorted. "I'm not real to them."

Alistair paused. "You're... not real."

"Nope." She popped the _p_, her tongue delving between her teeth with a rough sucking sound. "None of 'em can see or hear me but you."

"So... you're a ghost."

"Me?" The woman threw him a grin so self-pleased it was a smirk. "I... am a writer of tales."

"Riiight," Alistair said. "So what's your beef with Mary Sue?"

"She's killing the stories." Eve shot him a look filled with hatred. "Do you have any idea what kind of an amazing destiny you could have? Or, could_ have_ had? It was... epic, Alistair. So incredible. But instead, little miss 'Look at me, I can stand on one finger and shoot laser beams from my eyes-"

"Laser beams?" Alistair said, nonplussed.

"Forget it," Eve snapped. "She's dead meat." Rising from her crouch, she strode through the gallery and nocked an arrow, the nobility that filled the seats scattering in noisy terror as they spotted her at last. "Mary Sue Cousland," she called down in a hard voice. "I sentence you to death. You're through coloring our world with sunshine and rainbows - does no one else see that it's _unnatural?!"_

With that, the arrow sped through the air, and Alistair never knew whether he should have done something or not.

"No!" he heard Anora cry, and then Cailan's shield snapped up, the arrow _thudding_ into the wood with the sound of splintering. Eve only smirked again, that crazy smile teasing the corners of her mouth as she slung the bow over her shoulder.

"Why would you do this?" Cailan called up through the rapidly emptying hall. "Mary Sue Cousland has been our savior!"

"If she's so sodding special," Eve bellowed back, "Maybe Andraste should just show up and take her away to be at the Maker's side!"

And then it happened.

The hall filled with light, and Mary Sue transformed, her simple dress shimmering with glory as it became something otherworldly. "It is true..." she said in a whispery voice. "I am Andraste incarnate - and now that I have been discovered, I shall leave Thedas once again. I had hoped to lead the people to a new love of the Maker and join the country as it had never been... but you have revealed me, Eve Hawke. And now I shall go... but know I love you, all of you, and I wish we could have remained together forever." She raised her hand in a sign of blessing, then shimmered, winking out of view.

Shocked silence from Anora and Cailan, and then the queen began to wail.

"Well, that tears it," Eve said, her voice grim. "They'll be hunting me now, all over Thedas. No matter where I go, I'll have to watch my back... I should get going." She shoved past Alistair, her heavy boots thudding against the planked beams, then turning back. "Say." She eyed Alistair, who'd remained to watch the show. "Sorry for making your fiancé disappear and all that."

Alistair shrugged. "It's okay. I didn't find her all that interesting."

She chuckled, pushing one hand through her short hair. "I figured. So... any plans for the rest of your life?"

"Any chance it can still be epic?"

Eve grinned. leaning forward with eyes that sparkled almost like Mary Sue's... almost. "Come with me and it will be," she said in a low, inviting voice.


End file.
